


Best Amongst the Worst

by glustix



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A Deal With the Devil Was Not Planned, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, First Meetings, Kuroo is Literally the Devil, M/M, Religious Themes, Roommates, Tsukishima Just Really Needed a Flatmate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-23 21:31:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13796745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glustix/pseuds/glustix
Summary: Prompt:“Your roommate is literally the devil. Surprisingly, he’s the best roommate you’ve ever had.”In which Tsukishima Kei quickly realises his decision-making skills are probably highly questionable, and Kuroo Tetsurou is the devil incarnate.





	1. A Deal With the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Morning y’all. It’s been a hell of a long time (about 6 years, in fact) since I last published a multi-chaptered fanfic, so it’s about time I found a prompt to suck up all of my free time again.
> 
> I’ve always been a sucker for AUs, particularly supernatural/dystopian/post-apocalyptic styles, but just between us, my true ~~guilty~~ pleasure is roommate AUs. I’ve never managed to come up with an idea that isn’t overdone until now, so I am ridiculously excited to finally write one of my own.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

Desperation has a sickly sweet, pungent aroma.

Tsukishima Kei was very familiar with the feeling of overwhelming desperation from back in his volleyball days, but not once in his twenty-one years did he expect it to come to him in the comfort of his own home.

He sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose to rub at his aching eyeballs. Why was moving house such a fucking ordeal?

The webpage open on his laptop in front of him glowed tauntingly. With a moving date a mere five days away, he really was getting desperate. Craigslist was not a place on the internet Kei ever expected to find himself, but his long search for a roommate had been completely fruitless. He’d spent endless hours browsing equally desperate ad after ad, and wasted more hours meeting a handful of the losers who he believed were least likely to murder him or destroy his flat.

Unfortunately, it seemed to Kei that it was possible to catfish someone outside of a dating site; they all managed to be literally nothing like their promising online descriptions. Well, to give credit to Hinata, his description was bang on. Hence his immediate rejection.

Glaring at the screen, Kei felt a wave of apprehension wash over him - a last ditch effort from his brain trying to stop him from getting himself smothered within a week. There was no way a Craigslist roommate would be anything other than an absolute disaster waiting to happen.

With that thought, he slammed the lid of his laptop shut with a long sigh. What was he going to do now?

 

* * *

 

A few hours of thinking and checking over texts from previous roommate candidates later, Kei found himself in his local coffee shop cradling the remains of his latte between his hands, still lacking any ideas whatsoever. He’d thought that perhaps a sugar-caffeine hit might give him some inspiration, but he was wrong. Zilch, zero, nada. He downed the dregs of his lukewarm drink and stood up, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair in and folding it over his arm.

Craigslist it was.

His car beeped in greeting as he unlocked it and stepped in, checking his phone one last time for any responses to his adverts. Virtual tumbleweeds rolled through his inbox.

As he turned the key in the ignition a little too aggressively, his phone pinged to alert him of a text. Leaving the engine running, he frowned and squinted down at the little screen.

**Unknown:** _Morning, tsuKKi11. I spotted your ad on Craigslist and thought I’d see if you felt like meeting up about the roomie problem. If it helps, I’m not a predator, and my name has a K in it too. ;)_

Kei rolled his eyes. Another idiot.

The message was dumped unceremoniously into his ‘Junk’ folder while he clipped in his seatbelt and prepared to reverse out of his parking spot. Another ping interrupted his attempt, and he snatched up his phone, already knowing it would be the unknown idiot again.

**Unknown:** _Alright, I admit. Maybe the predator joke was in bad taste. Honestly, truth is I’m a desperate newbie-post-grad needing a flatmate who won’t kill me, and you sound like a pretty sensible kinda guy. Oh, and my name does start with K. I’m Kuroo Tetsurou._

Kei did consider himself to be a ‘sensible kinda guy’. He was brought up by a respectable family of doctors, never mixed in the wrong crowds, and mainly kept himself to himself. The only times he'd cause trouble would be when he purposefully goaded the morons he very occasionally called friends for being, well, braindead. He'd always been relatively quiet due to his dislike of the general population, and was far too smart to let his aforementioned idiot friends convince him to go to parties where he might attract any particularly leech-like acquaintances.

This sensible quality of his was currently at war with the 5-day countdown ticking away in his head. Kuroo was a struggling post-grad looking for a sensible roommate who didn’t plan on murder, just like himself. What more could he ask for?

Well for starters, not someone from fucking Craigslist who thinks that having names beginning with the same letter would actually give him roomie points, came his brain’s reply.

Despite his logical and immediate rejection of the guy, he chewed his lip and began typing.

**You:** _Good morning Kuroo-san. You’re right, the predator joke was very much in bad taste. Nice try though._

**Unknown:** _A response!!! I knew your username was a sign that this was meant to be!  
_

**You:** _Uh, no. More like, ‘Do you really think I’d use Craigslist if I had any options better than nutjobs like you?’. Also, it’s my first name that begins with K, not surname._

**Unknown:** _Ouch, cold. Just trying to be friendly._

Kei wanted to bash his head on the steering wheel. Good job, alienating him before even giving him the chance he intended to. Yet another ping surprised him.

**Unknown:** _So, coffee today?_

A couple of seconds passed while Kei debated his life decisions that had led up to this point. Why did Tokyo have to be so far from Yamaguchi in Miyagi? He would have been a perfect flatmate and would have meant avoiding this entire, gruelling process. Why did he think he could afford to be so picky when he first started looking? Of course now he would be stuck with those at the bottom of the barrel not put off by being called a literal nutjob, especially by a man who thought it was a good idea to post a spare room ad on one of the shadiest sites around.

He decided to shove logic and common sense aside and picked his phone up again with a groan.

**You:** _Sure. My local is called Bean There, Google it._

**Unknown:** _Bean There, Google It? Weird name for a coffee shop._

**You:** _ Don’t be a smartass after I’ve given you, Mr. ‘I-swear-I’m-not-a-predator’ a chance. Bean There. _

**Unknown:** _Hahaha, fine. I know it, it’s about 10 minutes down the road. You’re not the friendliest guy out there, y’know._

**You:** _ So I’ve been told. Be there in 15, I’m already here. Look for a blonde with white headphones and a black jacket. _

**Unknown:** _ Roger that. _

Kei let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. The irony of being called ‘sensible’ and then actually agreeing to meet this guy as a potential flatmate was painfully obvious to him, but he switched off the engine, got out of his car and went back into  _ Bean There _ nonetheless. He would later claim that he was possessed, or maybe that he was coming down with something. 

Yeah, that explains it.

A few minutes passed, and Kei sipped at his second latte of the day while drowning out his doubts with music. After 10 minutes, he would stare at anyone coming through the glass doors, trying to figure out if they were Kuroo. After exactly 15 minutes had passed, his stomach dropped. That was him.

A tall, athletic looking man stood in the doorway, narrow amber eyes scanning the shop. One tattooed hand held a motorbike helmet, while the other scratched the bird’s nest of coarse black hair on top of his head. Just as Kei thought of making a convenient trip to the toilet and bailing, Kuroo’s eyes caught his.

“Ah, there you are!” he called, grinning broadly. Kei pursed his lips into a crude attempt at a smile as the other man nimbly made his way around other tables to Kei’s own. “What a coincidence that you were already here. I thought you were bullshitting me.”

“Well, since I’m here, I’d say the likelihood of bullshit is pretty slim,” Kei replied. “It’s nice to meet you, my name is Tsukishima Kei.”

Kuroo laughed. “And here I thought your name just began with K, not that it was your entire name. How do you spell it?”

“With the kanji for firefly,” he replied. “And before you ask, yes, it’s usually pronounced differently.”

“Got me,” Kuroo chuckled, kicking his helmet under his chair and sitting down. His eyes glinted with mirth as he addressed Kei. “So, the more pressing issue. Since obviously my incredible sense of humour didn’t win you over, I assume my charming personality got me through the first round of roomie elimination?”

A blank stare was sent Kuroo’s way. “I’m not sure whether that was your ‘incredible sense of humour’ again, or that you really don’t understand that a Craigslist ad was literally my last resort.”

An shrug and a wry smile was returned to Kei. “If you really dislike me so much, Tsukishima-san, I can just leave right now. It’s no problem.”

Cornered.

“No- Ugh. Let’s just cut the smalltalk,” Kei muttered, taking a swig of his drink then taking a deep breath. “You’re looking for a flatmate, I’m looking for a flatmate. We’re both post-grads, and both already live in this area. I assume you’re happy with the appearance of the flat?”

“Yup.”

“You understand the terms of the tenancy?”

“Yup.”

“You have no criminal background?”

“Yup- Wait, no. I mean, no, I’m clean.”

Kei gave Kuroo a suspicious glance, getting nothing but an innocent look in return. “Alright. Do you have any questions you’d like to ask?”

“How old are you, and are you single?”

“Excuse me?” Kei spluttered. “I fail to see how that’s any of your business-”

His indignant response was interrupted by Kuroo’s deep laughter. He propped his chin up with one hand and gave Kei a slightly unsettling smirk. “No need to get so flustered, Tsukishima-san. I’m only kidding about that second part."

Pushing his glasses up his nose, Kei fixed Kuroo with a scowl. “Good. I’m looking for a flatmate, not a partner.”

“Ah, so you  _ are _ single?”

“Stop it! Do you want to be considered, or not?”

“Fine, fine!” Kuroo waved a hand, still laughing. “I’ll stop. I’m twenty-three, by the way.”

Kei was confused. “But I thought you said you’d only graduated recently?”

“I have. I did a bit of travelling before I started my undergrad degree,” the stranger replied, examining the tattoos on his hand. Kei’s eyes followed and took in the elaborate design on the man’s palm. He hadn’t seen anything like it before, but he could definitely see the appeal of the swirling, geometric lines. “Therefore, I’m a little bit older than you freshers on my course.”

“Right. What course are you on?” Kei asked.

“Theology,” There was that smirk again. Kuroo’s eyes met Kei’s as he continued in his low drawl. “I know I don’t look the type. What are you studying?”

“Well, I won’t argue that,” Kei snorted. “I’m studying Archaeology.”

“Ooh! Unusual. Looking at you, I thought you’d be a comp-sci geek,” Kuroo mused, looking Kei up and down from under his jagged fringe.

“I have an interest, but not enough for a PhD in it,” came the reply. 

“Ah.”

There were a few moments of silence between the pair. Kei fidgeted with his paper cup with a conflicted expression on his face. Kuroo kept his eyes fixed on the blonde across from him.

_ Well _ , Kei thought,  _ he’s not giving me any bad feelings - yet.  _

It was true. While all of the previous people he’d met had rubbed him up the wrong way at some point, Kuroo’s presence didn’t feel creepy, or like a threat. The only problem Kei could forsee would be a clash of personalities, as obviously Kuroo was very extroverted. However, an annoying flatmate is better than a criminal one. At least he could just go into his room if Kuroo was bothering him. 

What the hell was he thinking? Settling for the absolute bare minimum and thinking of how to avoid this douchebag in his own home. Ridiculous. There’s no way Kei could stoop so low.

A sudden crash as one of the baristas dropped an empty tray on the floor jolted him out of his thoughts. Kei cleared his throat, feeling slightly embarrassed about zoning out. He hoped Kuroo hadn’t been staring the entire time. 

Kei sighed, resigned. This man was the best of a bad bunch. “Move date is the 25th. Any more questions?” 

A wide grin split Kuroo’s face as he stuck out his hand for Kei to shake. “Only one. Where do I sign?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Tsukki made quite the decision here. Desperation and charm sure is a dangerous combination!
> 
> I'm not sure how long this fic will be. Definitely not too long, my last fic hit the 70,000 word mark before I was even halfway through, rip
> 
> A reminder that this will be a KuroTsukki fic, and that the devil sure likes carnal relations. Wink.
> 
> Please leave a comment with constructive criticism, general criticism, praise or just your thoughts!


	2. The Love of One's Own Excellence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Est autem superbia amor proprie excellentie, et fuit initium peccati superbia." - St. Augustine
> 
> Pride is the love of one's own excellence; the original sin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morning again! I got excited and wrote some more. Please pray for my burning eyes. 
> 
> Here we have moving in day shenanigans. If anyone’s interested in keeping up with my own shenanigans, feel free to follow my Tumblr, @calc0ins. 
> 
> Also, Bean There is a real coffee shop. Fancy butties.

**Kuroo-san:** _It’s the big day!_

**You:** _I’m aware. I’m renting this flat too, in case you’d forgotten._

**Kuroo-san:** _Boo, you’re no fun. Am I not allowed to be excited to move in with you?_

**You:** _Considering you’ve known me for approximately four whole days, fuck no. Stop texting me so much. Creep._

**Kuroo-san:** _Booooo._

Kei intensely regretted including his phone number on his ads almost immediately after he and Kuroo had left _Bean There_. The pair had shook on the moving in date, and Kei had passed Kuroo the relevant paperwork for him to read through, sign and bring with him on the 25th. Relief had flooded him, but quickly subsided when he arrived home and already had texts from his new flatmate.

Kuroo was a persistent man. When he wanted attention, he would try his hardest to get it. Unfortunately for him, Kei was a man as stubborn as Kuroo was persistent, if not more.

Somehow, that seemed to spur him on.

Kei had received several texts each day leading up to the move. He would always politely reply to the first bout, then ignore or solidly shut down any others that came through during the day. Things were not looking good for Kei’s plans for a peaceful flatshare arrangement.

He held down the lid of a repurposed Amazon box and snapped off a piece of tape with his teeth. The box was labelled ‘ _Specimens (FRAGILE)’_ in Kei’s own neat and tidy script. Kei stood back and admired the results of his packing prowess, a giant pile of boxes waiting by the door of his university accommodation to be shoved into his car and transported halfway across Tokyo. In the doorway, he turned and took one last look at the shoebox he used to call home. Something gave him a feeling he’d be missing it sooner rather than later.

Kei clicked his tongue with irritation as a buzz came from his jacket pocket. Even on silent, he was still getting bothered by Kuroo.

**Kuroo-san:** _I’m all packed up and ready to go. Just let me know when you want me. ;)_

The phone was immediately put back into its place in Kei’s pocket. Kuroo’s poor attempt at humour and flirtation would be ignored until it was relevant.

About 20 minutes later, Kei had strapped himself and all of his belongings into his car. His old flatmates had left weeks before, so he was more than keen to leave the eerie ghost town behind. Swiftly turning out onto the main road, he felt a small ember of excitement begin to glow inside him. This was a new chapter in his life and he was looking forward to it.

Even with fucking Kuroo.

* * *

**You:** _I’ve arrived, the door is open. Don’t rush. Please._

**Kuroo-san:** _On my way!_

**You:** _Oh dear. It seems you don’t know what ‘don’t rush’ means. I apologise._

**Kuroo-san:** _Ahaha, I just took that as a cover up for how much you want to see me, Tsukishima-san. I’ll see you soon._

Kei stood facing the door to his new apartment, specimen box held between aching fingers and the rest in a pile behind him. With a deep breath, he turned the key with a click and swung open the shitty plywood door.

Toeing off his shoes at the door, Kei muttered a quick ‘I’m home’ under his breath for the first time.

‘Home’.

A hallway stretched out from the front door to the entrance to the living room, with both bedrooms on the left-hand side. The two doors opposite on the right led to the tiny kitchen and equally tiny bathroom, both decorated with flowery wallpaper. A peek inside the bathroom confirmed Kei’s fear of a lack of bathtub, and also showed off a neat pile of flowery towels and bathmats on a shelf in the corner. If only his measly student loan would cover a complete redesign; it seemed to him that the previous occupant had a very specific and nauseating taste for interior design.

The first door on the left led to Kei’s bedroom. A long rectangle, it housed nothing but a single bed against the wall, a bookcase, and a slightly rusted metal lamp sat on the windowsill. He would have preferred a double bed, but he knew that having his own ensuite bathroom was the only way he would survive any longer in shared accommodation. This room felt nothing like the rest of the flat, what with its sky blue walls and soft, carpeted floor. It was refreshing.

He placed the box in his hands on the top shelf of his bookcase with a grunt. The ancient thing groaned and shivered with the weight of it, then settled.

A loud _vroom_ echoed through the open window, causing him to frown on reflex. He leaned over his bed and opened the curtains to see someone who looked suspiciously like Kuroo take off his motorbike helmet and wave cheerily up at Kei. He turned to pick up the only item of luggage he had with him, a black duffel bag that was strapped to the rear of the blood-red motorbike  
between his legs.

Of course he rode the noisiest vehicle known to mankind. Kei had hoped it was only a Vespa.

A few minutes later, Kuroo stood in the doorway to Kei’s room, holding onto the strap of his duffel. “Uh, need any help unpacking? I only have this bag.”

Kei stood up straight to face the man, his back audibly cracking as he did so. “No, thank you. I’m handling this just fine.”

Kuroo fixed him and the sea of brown cardboard around him with a skeptical look and snorted. “Suit yourself, Tsukishima-san. I brought some food that I would much rather cook and eat anyway.”

“You can cook?” Kei asked, mildly surprised.

“Very well, or so I’ve been told. I’m quite the foodie,” Kuroo replied, puffing out his chest with pride. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason. It was just unexpected,” Kei muttered, bending back over to the box of vinyl records in front of him.

With a frown, he glanced back over at his flatmate - God, he was going to have to get used to calling a stranger that - who immediately locked eyes with him with a supposedly disarming smile. Kei could feel eyes on him. Where were they looking? “Will there be anything else, Kuroo-san?”

Kuroo chuckled and feigned a shudder, shifting his bag further up his shoulder. “Nothing at all. I’ll see you when you’re finished.”

Kei watched him leave with narrowed eyes. Asshole.

* * *

 

The smell of instant noodles hit Kei’s nostrils when he finally finished folding and putting away his clothes. His knick-knacks could wait in their boxes another day, all of his bending over was tiring.

“Cheap noodles for a foodie, huh?”

Kuroo looked up from his seat curled up awkwardly on a beanbag, seemingly unsurprised by Kei’s presence leaning against the doorframe. Scattered around him were several empty cup noodles, with the one remaining held in his hands. “Obviously? Ramen is an incredibly popular dish in Japan.”

Kei snorted. “I’d hardly call instant noodles a ‘dish’. If you eat any more of those today, I wouldn’t be surprised if your heart gave up by midnight.”

“Pah! Measly noodles could never defeat the likes of me,” Kuroo declared, before aggressively slurping once more.

“Sure, freak.”

Slipping his headphones back over his ears, Kei made himself a simple lunch of rice and salmon. He sat at the tiny kitchen counter to eat it, only to be incredibly rudely interrupted by Kuroo stealing a piece of salmon from his chopsticks with his own. Kei was horrified, yanking his headphones down to his neck.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

Kuroo chewed with a raised eyebrow. “Eating, Tsukishima-san. You should do it more often, your portion sizing is a disappointment.”

“Shut up. You know what I mean,” Kei snapped. An uncomfortable silence settled in the air. 

Golden eyes were filled with confusion as Kuroo finished chewing and swallowed. “...Is it a problem if I say that I don't?”

Kei frowned in disbelief. “The _chopsticks_. What are you, a foreigner?”

Kuroo awkwardly laughed off the comment. “I’m an eighth American, if you must know. Can’t you tell by my beautiful pale skin?”

Kei rolled his eyes and cleared his plate into the bin, dropping it into the sink and rinsing his hands. “You know what, figuring out how you just broke such a taboo is really not worth having to tolerate a conversation with you.”

“I can think of other taboos I wouldn’t mind breaking with you, Tsukishima-san,” Kuroo purred, a sly grin stretched across his face.

"Point proven."

Kuroo barked out a very unflattering laugh at the middle finger that he was left with. Headphones returned to their rightful place, Kei decided to swiftly take his leave. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't get the thing about chopsticks, Japanese chopstick etiquette is a Thing. I'm half using my research for describing Kuroo's weird behaviour to learn how not to look like a foreigner when I visit Tokyo next month lol
> 
> One major chopstick taboo is passing food from chopsticks to chopsticks. It's reminiscent of a Buddhist funeral ritual where cremated bones are passed in that way. Yikes, Kuroo.
> 
> Thank you all for your kudos, subs, bookmarks and especially, comments! You guys overwhelm me with kindness, and reading them truly inspires me to keep crackin' on. <3


End file.
